


Anything but Normal - an EOS flash forward

by Aussi18



Series: The Edge of Sanity [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 13:19:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aussi18/pseuds/Aussi18
Summary: When Robin does not return with the rest of the Merry Men from a routine heist, Regina becomes concerned and goes in search of him. When she finds him, Robin shows his appreciation for her concern in their favorite way, which leads to them almost getting caught in a very compromising, yet very satisfying situation.(You do not need to have read Edge of Sanity to read this fic, although it helps with characterization and context if you have)Written for OQ Prompt Party 2019 (Tuesday)Prompts are EOS specific and listed in the end notes





	Anything but Normal - an EOS flash forward

**Author's Note:**

> A trillion thanks to my beta @bolt41319 - who helped me keep this a secret from the prompt requestors and made this a million times better - I could not have done this without your support and genius ideas. You're truly the best xoxo

 

 

 

He was supposed to come back with the Merry Men – should have been back twenty minutes ago – should have come stomping into camp on that big gray dapple horse he’s taken a liking to, with that cocky smirk plastered across his face and a heavy sack full of loot slung across his back.

But he didn’t.

Regina paces back and forth at the edge of camp as John stands just behind her, smart enough not to approach her, but obviously nervous over Robin’s absence as well.

“Where?” she snaps for the third time. “Where was the last place you saw him?”

John repeats his answer with a tone that is soft, but not cowardly. “In the passageway just before we left the hideout - he was right behind Will – there were only a few of Richard’s Templars chasin’ after us, shouldn’ta been enough to cause him any trouble.”

Rationally, Regina knows that he’s probably fine. She knows that there have been various occasions upon which her man has returned behind the rest of his gang, knows that especially when it comes to King Richard and his magic-hating-witch-hunting-Templars that Robin can never quite help but to teach as many of them as possible that it is _him_ they should fear, much more so than _her_. That while magic and witchcraft are certainly dangerous, they have nothing to do with the terror that Robin can inspire simply by pulling the string of his bow or flourishing the blades of his daggers – both of which he is more than obliged to do, should the Templars so much as drop a hint of a threat toward his wife and her special abilities.

King Richard’s forces have been growing more bold lately – they’ve been pressing in on the Merry Men, have gained some powerful allies across kingdoms and started to create real threats to the way of life Robin and Regina have put together, hidden in the depths of Sherwood Forest. So when another five minutes passes with still no sign of Robin’s return, Regina’s resolve crumbles and she turns to John, her long black gown swishing around her ankles with the quick movement, her high ponytail whipping around to land on her shoulder as she narrows her eyes and growls, “Go and find Will – we’re going to get him. _Now_.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The swirl of purple smoke clears quickly with the night breeze as Regina, John, and Will appear just outside the southern stronghold of King Richard’s Templars. Will immediately, albeit quietly, vomits, still unused to the pins and needles tingling sensation as each cell of his body is pulled apart and spliced back together when transposed from one physical location to the next, and even through her worry over Robin, Regina can’t quite tamp down her amusement at his discomfort. She rolls her neck and smooths the front of her dress – this being all the readying she needs – then uses her magic to throw open the heavy wooden door that leads into the cavern before her. She strides down the passageway without hesitation, her steps long and purposeful, John and Will falling in to flank her without her so much as saying a word; it’s rare that she joins the gang in a fight, but when she does it’s been well established that she’s in charge.

All is quiet as they walk along, just as John had described to her, and it concerns Regina more than if they had encountered a fight right from the start. At least if they had run into Richard’s army, she would have a reason for Robin’s delay, but the further they delve without opposition, the more anxious she becomes.

After another hundred yards or so they come to a fork in the path, and Will leans over to whisper to her, “Last we saw, he was behind us in the left tunnel, that’s where they were keepin’ the artifacts. Dunno what’s to the right.”

Regina nods for both men to take the left passage, retracing their steps while she ventures down the unknown one to the right, her instincts telling her that this is where they lost Robin – his curiosity likely having gotten the better of him and turned him on his heel to ensure he hadn’t missed anything of particular value. She and Robin learned early on in this thieving lifestyle that it pays to check behind every door, for _value_ can be defined in many ways – not just in gold and coins.

Walking quickly and quietly down the dark passageway, Regina probes with her magic, trying to feel for Robin’s aura. His aura is a perfect match to her own these days, for he truly is her soulmate, so it is a huge relief to her when, after several minutes of searching, she feels the brush of her own magic pushing back against her inquiry. She speeds her steps as she closes distance between them while staying mindful of her surroundings; Regina has no idea what is keeping him, or what sort of situation she is about to walk into, but at least she knows he’s alive.

There is a heavy, securely locked iron door standing between her and her husband, and Regina has never had the patience that Robin has to pick a lock. So with a fierce blast of magic she hits the door with a wave of purple energy that tears it from its hinges, the metal no match for the strength of her spell, and the door topples flat into the room, allowing her to step inside, standing right on top of it as she takes in the sight before her.

He’s covered in blood.

From head to toe, Robin is absolutely covered in it.

He’s standing in the middle of the room, daggers in both hands, his chest heaving, mouth open and breathing hard like he’s just run thirty miles as the blood runs off him in rivulets. Regina almost wouldn’t recognize him, but the second she takes two hard steps into the room, fireballs flickering brightly in both of her palms, he turns, grins broadly and says, “Christ, darling, couldn’t you have come to my rescue in something a bit less sexy?”

Regina tips her head to the side as she glances around the room, then snuffs the fire in her palms. Everyone else appears to be dead – the bodies of at least ten Templars lay scattered around them, one or two of them are twitching but aside from that, there are no serious signs of life.

She’s dressed in a long, form-fitting black dress with a sensual neckline that shows off the inner swells of her breasts and goes all the way to her waist – the center of her chest covered by sheer netting that leaves nothing to the imagination. She’s wearing a thick silver choker necklace, and a black headpiece to match, her hair in a high ponytail that hangs long down her back. She obviously hadn’t been expecting to come save the day – to be honest, she’d been expecting to have him come home and take the dress off of her – she knows how much he loves it when she wears black.

“Had I known I would be rescuing you, I might have worn something a bit less formal, my dear,” she retorts, walking toward him. “Care to explain what’s kept you? We expected you to return quite some time ago.”

Robin reaches for her hand as she nears but she makes a face and pulls away, not wanting his sticky, filthy hand to contaminate her clean one. It appears she has hurt his feelings though, his eyes taking on that forlorn look she positively hates, so she explains, “You honestly can’t expect me to take your hand while you’re completely covered in blood,” as she wrinkles her nose and makes a point of looking him up and down.

“I’m not completely covered,” he gripes, pouting, then says, “Come, I’ll show you what’s kept me.”

Robin leads her to the other side of the room where there is another door – this one is wooden – which he swings open, and Regina’s eyes widen as she pokes her head inside. The room is well lit with several brightly burning torches, and as she sweeps her eyes throughout, she is shocked to see that almost the entire room is filled with piles upon piles of gold coins.

“Where in all the realms did King Richard’s Templars get such a treasure hoard?” she asks, stepping inside and gazing upon the vast amount of wealth.

“My thoughts exactly,” Robin replies. “It’s quite a stash for those supposedly sworn to poverty. Unfortunately, none of them were willing to tell me just where they got it, or what they were planning to do with it.”

Regina turns to see him attempting to wipe his bloody daggers on his trousers, which doesn’t seem to do much good, considering the soiled state of his clothing. She conjures a clean handkerchief for him, and he gives her one of those appreciative little smiles as he takes it.

She loves that about him, loves how he is _always_ impressed by her magic, always proud of her for what she can do – even the simple, easy things, the things that are so natural to her that she doesn’t realize she’s done them until she sees _that_ smile on his face. Robin uses the cloth to wipe his daggers clean, then his hands, then giving her a little grin he tosses the soiled cloth into the air, and without missing a beat Regina incinerates it.

She winks at him and he laughs softly in response, causing her relief over his safety to hit her like a tidal wave, and she suddenly wants to kiss him, but she certainly can’t do that considering the disgusting, blood splattered state of his face. He starts to turn back toward the treasure, and her need to be near him overcomes her, so she tugs on his hand and quietly requests, “Wait.”

She could use her magic to clean him up a little - it's crude but it would work and she's done it before - but instead she conjures a new cloth and starts to wipe his face clean for him. She's thorough, even makes sure to run it up into his hairline and down his neck to rid him of all traces of blood until he is completely clean, his skin a little pink from her wiping but no worse for wear overall. It's an excuse for her to touch him longer, and sooner, than if she had used her magic to do it, her anxiety driving her need to be close to him, wanting contact as reassurance that he is okay and that the immediate threat has passed. His eyes are trained on her the entire time she runs the cloth over him, the bright blue studying her intently, and she fights against making eye contact for as long as possible as she works, knowing that the second she meets his gaze she’s going to forget what she’s doing here and fall into him like she always does, blood spatter and all.

When she’s finally done cleaning him up, she drops the cloth haphazardly to the floor, not caring what happens to it – she just wants, no, she _needs_ to put her hands on his face, to touch his skin, to feel his heat beneath her fingertips. She was more concerned about him than she’ll ever admit out loud – she _knows_ that she worries more than she should, that she worries deep down inside the depths of her heart about him every time he is in danger, regardless of how big of a threat it truly is. She loves Robin with her entire soul, so when he is in peril there is nothing else that she can think about, nothing else she can be concerned with, nothing that could possibly be more important to her. Regina strokes her fingers lovingly over his brow, down the laugh lines of his eyes and over his cheekbones, then smooths her thumbs along his scruffy, rough jawline. She leans in and bumps her nose against his, closing her eyes as she gets closer still, then presses her lips softly to his, the current of her magic flaring between them as she cups his face with her hands and sucks lightly on his upper lip.

Robin’s hands find her waist as he kisses her back, his fingers flexing as they tilt their heads in tandem, mouths opening, tongues flicking and meeting as Regina pulls his head down to her, digging her nails into the back of his neck then scratching up into his hairline. He pulls at her bottom lip with his teeth, letting them drag across it before he comes back to slip his tongue between her lips. She wants to press her body to his, wants to rub her chest against him, maybe straddle his thigh and grind against him in that way he lets her do sometimes, and she suddenly hates that he’s covered in blood and they’re in this stupid hideout with god knows how many more Templars, and an enormous amount of gold they have no idea what to do with.

He pulls back from her and she huffs out an annoyed breath before she can help it, dropping her hands to her sides and trying not to fidget – fidgeting always gives away her arousal to him – as he rasps, “We can’t keep this up, darling.”

“Oh?” she teases. “Why ever not?”

Robin ducks his head and gives her a knowing look, then steps closer, reaching around to grasp the long length of her ebony ponytail, tugging lightly to tip her head back as he presses kisses to the column of her throat and says, “You bloody well know why-the-fuck-not; know that I can’t resist you, my love, know that if we keep touching like this that at the very least I’ll need to finger your tight little cunt for you, will need to work you up until you come for me. Just thinking about it has me half hard – s’been so long since I’ve touched you, even longer since I’ve tasted you.”

He releases her hair to palm her breasts, and Regina arches into his touch, cupping his neck and tugging him up to get her mouth against his again. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolds, breathless, “It’s been less than a day since you’ve done both of those things.” Her tone has almost no snark to it – instead, it’s teasing as she play-bites at his lips, remembering the way he sucked kisses up her inner thighs the night before, the way he laved his tongue through her folds and fingered her not through one, or two, but _three_ leg-shaking, back-arching orgasms.

Robin pinches the tips of her breasts, but she can’t fully feel his touches through the tight fabric of her dress in the way she wants – she wants his hands running over her bare skin, wants to feel the hot stretch of him inside of her, wants his slick mouth sliding against her, wants… wants to _not be touching his blood-soaked tunic – ugh!_

She promptly pulls her hands away from his chest and makes an accompanying sound of disgust, stepping back from him as she tries to escape the mess. It appears, however, that Robin has lost what little control he had, because he follows closely after her, tugging the treasure room door closed behind them, moving fast as he disconnects his quiver, then yanks his tunic and undershirt over his head, letting the items drop to the floor before he hits his knees in front of her and reaches for her bare thigh through the slit of her dress.

“What –” she gasps, trying to catch her balance as he throws her leg over his shoulder and bunches her dress up around her thighs, “You can’t be serious!”

“The fuck I’m not,” he says quietly, stroking his hand up the outside of her thigh, then reaches around behind him to grab his shirt. “Here, darling, use this to wipe your hands.”

She quickly cleans her hands on the inside of his shirt - trying not to think about how many different people contributed to the revolting dark red smears and how on earth she’s going to get the debris out from under her fingernails - then braces on his shoulders for balance, still not sold on the idea that he’s about to do _this_ right _now_.

“Robinnn,” she hisses, “I broke down the other door, someone could come in at any moment.”

“Well I didn’t tell you to tear it off its’ hinges like a hurricane now did I, love?” he chides, shifting around to spread her legs a little wider, his fingertips playing at the edge of her panties. “Are there more Templars?” he asks more seriously, looking up at her through his thick lashes.

It’s hard to concentrate with his breath against her inner thigh, and _especially_ with his tongue tracing little patterns against the soft, sensitive skin there – but Regina tries. She probes with her magic, trying to discern any additional presences nearby, and yes, there is someone, or something nearby - though she isn’t certain what, who, or how many. She tells Robin as much.

“Well,” he says softly, his lips ghosting across her smooth skin, fingers slipping beneath her panties and around to squeeze her ass, tugging her closer to him. “You can either be very, _very_ quiet while I eat your sweet, slick pussy, while I lick, and suck, and finger you, while I rub your needy little clit until you clench and wring my fingers…” he presses his mouth against her core through her panties and she huffs out a hot breath, her hands pressing against the back of his head, holding him to her even though she’s just told him they shouldn’t do this. He pulls back slightly and adds, “Or, you can wait until we return to camp, until I’ve hashed all this out with John and we’ve moved this giant pile of treasure, until hours upon hours have passed, and we’re both exhausted and quite possibly too tired to keep our eyes open, let alone make love.”

Regina both hates and loves it when Robin is right, which he oh-so-often is when it comes to things like this - _particularly_ when it comes to getting her off in places and at times that they absolutely should not be participating in such lascivious activities. Over the last few years though, she has come to accept that she is weak for her husband’s advances - he is irresistible to her, and to deny herself is just plain torture. She wants him too much to say no when he propositions her like this, wants him all the time – wants him the second his skin comes into contact with hers, the moment his eyes fall on her from across the room, the instant she hears him whisper her name, or even better, when he sweetly calls her _darling_. Just being in his presence is like having her own personal aphrodisiac.

Robin inhales sharply against her core and she caves for him, whispering _Yes_ and _Now_ and _Please_ in that desperate voice she once was so embarrassed of, the voice that took her a long time to accept and understand was okay to let him take ownership of. He pulls her leg from his shoulder so he can slide her panties off, backs her up to the nearest wall, then quickly resets their position, lining her center up with his mouth and throwing a triumphant little smirk up at her before he buries his face between her thighs. She digs the heel of her boot into his back and squeezes her eyes shut, her hips jerking reflexively under the shot of immediate arousal he creates with his talented lips and tongue. The hot, slick slide through the folds of her sex is such a welcome touch that she can think of nothing other than how amazing it feels to have him working her up like this, regardless of where they are.

Regina leans back against the wall behind her, letting her knee tip to the side, trying to open her thighs further for him, wanting to be spread as wide as possible to give him access to her as he grabs both cheeks of her ass and presses his face in tightly to her, sucking hard on her clit. She lets out a quiet _ahhhh_ as he teases the sensitive bud, her fingers tangling in his short hair, scratching lightly. Her head tips back against the wall, the jewels on her headpiece making a soft _click_ against the stone, her hips rolling forward and back, over and over in pleasure. Regina shifts her leg again, pulling it up to place the arch of her high-heeled boot into the crux of Robin’s shoulder and neck, bending her leg sharply and stretching out her thigh at the same time, opening herself up further than before and putting a little pressure on his throat with the sharp pointed heel. Robin moans, digs his fingers into her ass and drags them down the backs of her thighs, then shifts one hand around as he presses his tongue to her clit and starts to _rub-rub-rub-rub_ her with fast flicks of his tongue, two of his fingers smoothing through the wetness at her core then slipping up into her in a fast, practiced motion that has her losing her breath and letting out a punctuated, “ _Mmhh!”_ while her hips jerk in response.

He finds the right angle to hit her g-spot after a few thrusts, then curls his fingers and sets to work on her, swiping and tapping at that sensitive area deep within her as he flicks his tongue against her clit. A hot flash of arousal wracks through Regina, her chest and face flushing with it, breath catching as her legs start to shake. She can clearly hear the obscene sounds as her body creates more and more lubrication for him while he continues to work her up and up, rubbing his fingers fast within her, getting her close-close-close-close- her clit tingling, that hot sensation starting to intensify, starting to radiate out – but then he pulls away completely, shifting his mouth to nip her inner thighs and suck her outer lips, carefully avoiding her clit as she pulls in deep, gasping breaths and rasps with frustration in her voice, “We,” - deep breath - “don’t have time for these games, dear,” - another deep breath - “need you to finish me.”

“I will,” he murmurs, using his hands to stroke her legs soothingly while he kisses along the hinge of her hip and thigh before he runs the wide flat of his tongue slow… slow… slowly through her slit. He licks his lips and presses a sweet kiss to her mound before he adds, “But not yet. Let me bring you to the edge at least once more - you know how much you love it when I deny you.”

He’s right again – she does love it when he edges her – but they really shouldn’t waste that kind of time right now. They know there are more people, or at least more _living beings_ nearby, she doesn’t know where John and Will are, there is an enormous amount of work to be done and they –

Robin firmly presses the pad of his thumb to her clit and she bites hard on her bottom lip, staring down and watching him work her as he starts to rub slow, smooth circles. He’s twisted and tucked her skirt up and behind her so it’s out of the way, pinned between her and the wall, so she has a perfect view of what he’s doing to her now, and _god_ , it’s an erotic sight. His hands are so masculine – weathered, calloused from overuse of his bow and daggers, larger than hers, his fingers thick and his nails _always_ cut extremely short, which she knows for a fact is kept up so diligently just for her benefit. Her heart flutters and her clit throbs at the same time, she whines softly as he leans forward and drops a line of sweet kisses up the front of her thigh. He slips two fingers back up inside of her, her hands are unsteady as she strokes them along the sides of his neck to cup his face. He turns his head to kiss her palm, and even though what they’re doing is by all rights completely lewd in anyone else’s definition, she could care less what anyone else thinks when he shows her such sweetness. _Jesus_ , she loves him.

He’s speeding his fingers inside of her then, rubbing against that spot that shoots sparks in her belly and makes her gasp, makes her tighten and furrow her brow as pleasure starts to build within her. The rubbing and swirling motions Robin makes on her clit are steady and even, completely controlled as he continues to increase the speed of his fingers within her, to the point that Regina’s hips are jolting a little with his firm movements, the sharp, punctuated thrust and curling pull of his fingers tugging her back and forth just a little as her adrenaline spikes and that hot tingle starts to spread again. She’s so, so wet – if she thought it was obscene before she can’t even describe it now. She can feel the dampness on her inner thighs, the squelching sounds loud as Robin raps his fingers hard and fast inside of her, standing up tall on his knees and pressing his forehead against her belly as he drives his fingers in as deep as he can, her leg falling to drape over his elbow while he works tirelessly to bring her arousal _up-up-up-up-up_.

She’s close to coming again, but she’s not going to tell him this time – she needs to come, needs to get off because the pleasure is too much, she needs to let herself clench and release, needs to shudder around him and burn off this intense energy that has balled up deep in her lower belly, needs to let it radiate through her sex and up and through the tips of her breasts – which she suddenly – _jesus –_ she suddenly wants to be touched too.

It’s cheating but she does it anyway – she uses a touch of magic to undo the clasps at the back of her dress as she fights off her orgasm, wanting to stall now as she squirms and peels the top half of her dress down, exposing her arms and breasts as Robin leans back from her to see what she’s doing without slowing the movement of his hands.

“Bloody hell,” he grits out, his voice full of gravel, and she smiles broadly as he licks his lips, her breasts just above him as she puts her hands on herself and plucks her nipples. They both moan as she pinches and rolls them, her arousal spikes and – _oh, oh jesus_ – she’s so close. Regina squeezes her breasts, massaging roughly as Robin works her clit fast, his digits a blur of motion as the fingers of his other hand tap against her g-spot, and – _oh god_ – she’s going to come, her legs are shaking violently, she’s barely able to hold herself up, all of her energy is diverted to the tight coil of pleasure and arousal that is burning inside of her. Her clit throbs, her inner muscles are tightening, tightening, _tightening_ –

Robin grabs her wrists and pins her hands to the wall, having moved so fast that she didn’t even realize he got up, and she’s frantic for him, her body one second, one touch, one whisper of a breath from orgasm. She tries to press her legs together, knowing that she’ll come if she does, but he beats her to it, shoving his legs between hers and pinning her thighs against the wall so that her legs are spread open, unable to get any friction, even when she shimmies and tries to rub herself against him.

“Not yet, my love,” he rasps, pressing his forehead to her shoulder, as she trembles and flails beneath him, a desperate sob falling from her lips in protest. “Not yet, sweetheart, not yet.”

“Please, please, please,” she begs, her voice low and breathy, arching her back and shoving her chest toward him, trying to rub her nipples against his bare chest, certain that even that little bit of stimulation is enough to make her come right now. Robin anticipates her move and curls his body away from her, so his hot skin is just out of range of her twisting upper body. “Please, baby, I need it, _I need it_ ,” she whines.

“I know,” Robin soothes, kisses her shoulder then sinks his teeth into the meat of it, biting down until the slightly painful indentations of his teeth draw her attention away from the nearly unbearable hot throbbing in her core. He pulls back and kisses the red crescent-shaped indents he’s left in her skin and says, “I always give you what you need, don’t I, darling? Have I ever left you wanting?”

Regina shakes her head and tells him, “Never,” while she takes in several deep breaths, trying to calm down but epically failing to. The way Robin is restraining her against the stone wall has her even more turned on, has her feeling totally exposed and vulnerable to him - which she knows that he knows - and she can feel her pulse positively _pounding_ in her clit, her arousal and excitement so high that the hard, fast, thrum of it is almost, but not quite, enough to make her come.

“I’ll never get over how beautiful you are, my Queen,” he rasps, sucking hotly on her neck, and Regina moans at the use of his pet name for her, at the title she would have had, had they chosen a different path - a path that they could still so easily choose to tread were they to want it. “The fairest of them all, you are,” he murmurs, kissing down her chest to – _oooh, oooh_ \- flick her right nipple with his tongue before taking it between his lips and teasing it into a hardened peak. “Shall I give you what you desire, Your Majesty?” he asks, releasing her wrists and dropping his hands to unbuckle his belt.

Regina’s stomach drops out with excitement, her anticipation so high that she’s already climbing him and saying, “Yes, _yes!”_ before he gets them situated – bunching up the skirt of her dress while shoving the top down to her waist – as he lifts her and pins her against the wall, his hands under her thighs as he slides his thick length against her soaked core. She’s so ready for him, knows that this time he’s going to let her come, that this time she’s going to get to fly over that edge with him buried inside of her, just how she likes, and she can tuck her face into his shoulder and breathe in his forest scent while he carries her through it, and god, she just, she can’t wait.

He nudges at her center and she tries to slide down onto him, but he’s careful, is _always_ careful like this. Robin never forces his way inside of her (she’s the one who takes him too fast, to which he gets thoroughly irritated with her for doing so, when the situation occurs), and she huffs her impatience as she rolls her hips, digging her nails into his shoulders as she shifts up and down his body, presses her lips to his ear as she rasps, “Oh god, baby, _please_.”

Robin groans his acquiescence (she always wears him down eventually) and finally – thank god – he lets her slide down his length at her leisure – which in this case is really, _really_ fast. He’s so thick that it doesn’t seem to matter how many times she’s had him inside of her, there’s always that full stretch when he enters her, especially when she is _this_ turned on, when she’s already swollen and soaked and so close to coming that her whole body shivers when he bottoms out, and she has a moment where she’s honestly concerned that she’s about to orgasm from that alone.

She doesn’t though, thank god, so she starts moving on him, unable to delay, not even caring that her back scrapes against the rough stone as he thrusts into her. Her lust is uncontrolled, her movements against him jerky as she chases the satisfaction she knows he’s about to give her. Robin’s hands are firm as he palms her ass, working her up and down his length quickly as she locks her arms around his neck and rolls her body in rhythm against him, her legs draped over his elbows as he thrusts deep-deep-deep. She pulls his head down and kisses him between thrusts, biting at his lips a little, sucking hard and nipping at him in her fervor.

“Rub your clit for me, love,” he tells her, thrusting deep and giving her several quick strokes that – _ah ah ah_ – make her impossibly more wet, deep strokes that make that – _ooooh_ – sharp flash of pleasure coil tighter, _tighter_ inside of her. Regina tenses one arm around his neck and slips the other between them, fumbling a little with the fabric of her dress, her hands shaking as she is admittedly adrenaline drunk. She finally gets her fingers on her clit, and – _oh god_ – she’s not sure she’s ever felt it so swollen, so sensitive, her fingertips slip and slide over the hard little nub as Robin thrusts inside of her, her body jolting with the force as he uses his hands to pull her down as he starts to slam up into her.

This is the exact moment that Regina gives up on being quiet.

She locks her arm around her husband’s neck, flurries her fingers as fast as she can over her clit, and drops her head back in ecstasy as she commands, “Just like that – oh god – don’t st-stop!”

He won’t, she knows he won’t, he has never failed her in bed, so she knows he will fuck her until she completely comes undone, which she is about 5 seconds away from. Her clit aches, it burns with stimulation, her inner muscles flutter and contract with each thrust – not spasming, not yet – but close, _close_ – and that tightness, it’s growing, growing, growing by the second.

“I love looking at you like this,” he rasps, thrusting quick-quick-quick and kissing desperately along her jawline. “Love the way you concentrate so hard on your pleasure, love the crease of your brow, the way you narrow your eyes just before you come, the way you clench your jaw and arch back for me, my love. _Fuck_ , there is nothing hotter.” He strokes smoothly, sucks hard on her pulse point, then that spot just below her ear and asks, “Are you going to come for me, wife? Are you going to come on my cock?”

She’s bouncing against him with the force of his movements, and she answers him with a barely intelligible, “ _Mmhmm_ ,” her voice breaking in the middle as she feels her orgasm start, the hot wave of tingling pleasure starting in her clit, flaring out and intensifying with each stroke against her g-spot – _oh god oh god oh god_ – feels so good, _finally_ , yes, _yes –_

“Shh!” Robin whispers, crushing her body against the wall with his, one of his hands clapped tight over her mouth as he goes completely still against her. “Someone’s coming!”

A wave of dread washes through her as she wrenches her eyes open and pulls her head up from where she had buried it against his neck. Regina listens hard, her heart hammering in her chest, her inner muscles quivering and pulsing around the thick length of her husband’s cock, but it doesn’t take long for her to hear what he had alluded to – the unmistakable sound of men in armor shuffling around in the next room.

Oh shit.

Robin pulls his hand from her mouth in an apparent attempt to speak with her, but she’s still fighting off her orgasm, her hand pinned between them, fingers pressed tight against her clit, and when he moves his hand from her mouth she accidentally sucks in a high pitched little _hah_ that has him pressing his lips to hers to shut her up once more. He kisses her quietly, then moves his lips to her ear, shifting his weight and causing her to rub her fingers over her clit – her hips jerking from the sensation – _shit shit shit_ – Regina grinds her teeth and fights the surge of pleasure, fights hard not to come - _oh god_ \- she can’t, she won’t be able to keep quiet - _oh please, please_ \- she begs the gods to help her stop from coming.

“I know you’re close,” Robin rasps against her ear, his lips brushing over the shell of it and causing gooseflesh to break across her neck. Oh jesus – that’s not helping, _not helping at all_. “I can feel the tremors inside of you, _christ_ , and I hate to interrupt you, but can you tell me how many Templars there are over there?” He kisses her cheek and Regina turns her face to his, her fingers tight on the back of his head as she kisses his lips roughly, stroking her tongue deep into his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip, then the top, before pressing her forehead to his. She takes a deep breath and casts the spell, trying to discern the strength of the threat in the next room.

“There’s at least a dozen of them,” she whispers, her lips brushing his, “They’re going to find us any second now - we should stop.”

Robin nods, but then flexes his fingers on her ass and gives her a long, slow thrust. The action immediately reignites the fire of arousal she’s been desperately trying to put out - her legs start shaking, her clit throbs, that spot in her core starts to ache and quiver, her entire body right back on the edge of release.

“Tell me to stop, then,” he whispers, his lips against hers as he carefully, quietly thrusts again, again, again, a little faster with each stroke.

Regina glances at the wooden door, located only a few paces away from where Robin is fucking her against the wall, then lets her eyes drift to his lips before she kisses him and softly demands, “ _Harder_.”

He buries his length in her and pistons his hips forcefully, tugging her down onto him as she works her clit rapidly, arching her body to make her nipples brush against his chest as she takes him over and over, her sex stretched wide and filled so satisfyingly by his thick cock. They both hear the frustrated Templars as they try to force their way through the wooden door, but neither hesitates - they keep moving faster, harder, Regina’s pleasure building and burning and flaring through her, that purple magic haze lighting up her skin and wrapping around them both in protection like it usually does when Robin really makes her lose control.

“Yeah, that’s it, love,” he encourages, thrusting _hard-hard-hard_ , “That’s it, darling – oh fuck, wait, hold on –” Robin’s voice is strained as he slows down for a moment and almost pulls out of her. The noises at the door have grown louder - the Templars yelling as they start to break it down.

Regina doesn’t care about the Templars anymore though, she’s breathless and too close to coming, so she begs Robin, “Please - don’t stop, _don’t stop!_ ”

He tries to interrupt her with, “But I’m –”

Regina cuts him off, desperate for release, gasping, “Almost there, baby more, _more_ ,” as she locks her legs around his waist and shoves herself down on him, taking his length deep inside of her. She rolls her body against him, grinding her pelvis against his and working his cock against her g-spot, flurrying her fingers over her clit, _rocking-rocking-rocking_ on him, just a little more - _oh god_ \- she’s so close, so close - _jesus_ \- until she flies brilliantly off the edge and starts to come. The hot rush of her orgasm overtakes her – burns through her core and makes her hips jerk – _oh godddd_ – makes her positively writhe on him as she rocks and rocks her hips, keeping his thick cock buried deep – _ooooh_ – so deep inside of her, her ankles locked to hold him in place as she continues to rub her clit and gets another flash of pure bliss to flare through her again. Her sex spasms uncontrollably - _ahhhh god_ \- as Robin moans and shudders against her, letting her have her way with him, her inner muscles squeezing forcefully and contracting around him repeatedly, wetness seeping from where they are joined to run down her thighs – _jesus -_ as she slides along his length, taking him again, again - _oh god -_ again, until she is totally spent. Then she finally allows herself to relax in his arms, flushed, limp, and thankfully, protected by her magic.

Because the Templars have just broken down the door.

By the grace of all the gods she still has some of her wits about her, because Regina is somehow able to cast the room into slow motion before King Richard’s men come righteously streaming through the doorway, and it gives her just enough time to slip out of Robin’s embrace, her legs shaking as she quickly rights her dress and shoves her husband behind her protectively before the spell breaks. When time rights itself she is ready with fireballs in both hands, which she uses to incinerate the first two Templars before she snaps the necks of the next two with a twist of her wrists, then throws the following pair right back through the doorway in a crumpled heap of metal with a purple energy wave that crushes every bone in their bodies.

There is a break in the ‘fighting’ then – she knows there are more of them but they are hesitating in their full-frontal assault, obviously frightened by the demise of their friends, and that’s fine by Regina. If they won’t come to her, she is not afraid to bring the fight to them. She is just about to step toward the doorway, when the sound of combat arises, and she can hear the clash of swords and the twang of bowstring as, ah yes, John and Will arrive to take care of the remaining Templars.

Regina makes a move for the doorway, intent on finishing the fight, but Robin grabs her hand and tugs her back to him, and when she makes eye contact with him, there is concern in his eyes that immediately makes her pause.

“Whatever is wrong, my dear?” she asks, still breathing hard as she steps back to him, reaching for his face and stroking her fingers lightly down the side of his neck. He’s put his soiled shirt and his quiver back on, so she doesn’t want to get too close, but his expression is _very_ serious, and the way he’s not quite making eye contact with her doesn’t make her feel any better about it.

Robin rubs the back of his neck and sighs, then scrubs his hands over his face and groans quietly. “I uh, _fuck,_ I know we’ve talked about this, and I know we’ve agreed that we’re not ready, darling. I tried, I really did and I didn’t mean it, honestly, I didn’t.”

Regina tips her head to the side a little, listening closely but clueless to what he’s talking about. He shakes his head, his eyes watering in what she recognizes as frustration before he rubs his palms over them then begins babbling again, “It’s just that you’re so bloody gorgeous and I’ve been thinking about you all day, then you showed up in _this dress_ and _Christ_. I, I, I tried to stop - I swear I did, I tried not to come, and I tried to pull out but I couldn’t get the words out to tell you fast enough, and then you were coming too and I tried pull out, but _fuck,_ do you realize how strong your legs are? My god woman, Rocinante must be giving you a harder time than I thought he was for all of these years, to have thighs like that - but anyway - shit. I’m so sorry. I, I know that’s not an excuse and I should’ve found a way to force myself out, but you felt so incredible, and you were begging me to stay in you, begging me to finish you like that, and _fuck_. Oh god, I’m so, so sorry, darling.”

Regina’s eyes widen as he speaks, awareness of what has just happened slowly prickling up her spine. She shifts, realizing she’s not wearing any panties and can now feel the excessive wetness between her thighs – the wetness she thought was from her over-enthusiasm, but which she now knows is a contribution from the both of them.

Oh.

_Oh god._

She’s not angry with him - Regina realizes what _they_ have done - she knows he tried to pull out, tried to warn her, she knows she didn’t really let him and that they’re both to blame for the risk they’ve just taken, and she’s honestly not all that concerned about it. So she kisses him and tells him not to worry, that she loves him and that she’s not upset, that it was an accident and she’s sure it’ll be fine - that one little slip certainly can’t lead to a child that they are in no way prepared for.

 

* * *

 

 

And everything _is_ fine - everything goes on just as they planned. Everything is completely, perfectly normal, all the way up until she’s supposed to get her next period, and she waits, and waits, and waits - but it never comes.

And that’s not all that unusual, except that the _next_ one doesn’t come either. Or the one after that.

And from that point forward, things are anything _but_ normal.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: EOS - Robin & Regina have sex in the middle of a heist next to coins of money where they almost get caught  
> Prompt: EOS - Robin FINALLY comes inside Regina  
> Prompt: EOS - Regina Finds out she’s pregnant


End file.
